What in the World

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 What in the World?


Tomorrow night
I double booked myself. 

Either I

go listen to a man who 
used to be a boy who 
(I am pretty sure) looked down my shirt my first time to Europe 
talk about the ren-AI-ssance.

Or I

go listen to a woman who
I heard was a writer, filmmaker, artist, who 
I now understand is none other than 
the Miranda July.

old loyalties don't die so hard
when faced with the fear of unmatched artistic freedom

The answer of course, is obvious, 
and I have every excuse either way.

As always, it's me who has to choose,
me who has to choose. 

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